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uring the last 127 years, Avinyó street was the street of Pitarra, one of the classic restaurants of the Gothic Quarter, with a long history linked to the neighborhood and to Barcelona's culture. The name comes from Frederic Soler Pitarra, who was the owner –or rather, the heir–, and its reputation came from the gatherings that the playwright organized in the back room when it was still a watchmaker's shop, which brought together the leading figures of Barcelona's intelligentsia in the mid-19th century. Throughout the last century, Pitarra was a pillar of Avinyó street –where do you think young Picasso must have had a drink before going to see the ladies?– and currently it was one of the last exponents of classic Catalan cuisine in ground zero: in this era of bars with chill out music, eating there was a trip back in time, with the wall full of old paintings and the mandatory, pristine white tablecloths, which inevitably filled with wine stains as the conversation progressed.
Last April, Pitarra, 'Cradle of Catalan Theater', closed amidst the umpteenth "it can't be, we've lost our minds" campaign in the media and social networks. After the death of the historic owner, Jaume Roig, it seems that the new owner wanted to make more money and transformed it into Scruffy Murphy's (someone should explain to me why Irish pubs always have these kind of grubby names).
The new pub has not lasted even three months, as journalist Jordi Nopca revealed on Twitter, just enough time to cover the alcoholic needs of tourists during the World Cup and to finish getting a few thousand Englishmen drunk, because everyone knows that if there's one thing missing in the old town, it's places where Englishmen can drink their beer. The business has been a complete success for everyone: for the people of Barcelona, for the tourists, for the neighborhood and for the owner, who is already looking for someone who wants to install the umpteenth gastric franchise.
Perhaps it's time to realize that these historic shops are the street-level equivalent of Antoni Gaudí and Josep Puig i Cadafalch, the indispensable icons to define the personality of a street and differentiate them from each otherUp to here, a classic scheme, which has been repeated in recent years at least once a month with bookstores, chocolate shops, drugstores, and all kinds of historic businesses that close due to rental pressure and reopen transformed into the umpteenth soulless business that can't even withstand a gust of wind. Years go by and the City Council seems to have no plan to protect these businesses –and fewer and fewer remain, tick-tock-tick-tock– nor any idea to guarantee their continuity. Because, let's face it, it's not a matter of free market, but of preserving the public interest –what makes Barcelona Barcelona, the identity signs of a neighborhood and a community– above speculative short-termism. That it is necessary to acquire Pitarra and open a public tender for someone to take charge of it... Well, go ahead, we will find some young chef who will be eager to make pig's trotters as they have always been made.
During the 20th century, we learned that we had to preserve modernism, that we couldn't keep losing architectural gems every time the brick king put up an apartment block. And this preserved modernism is precisely what has put Barcelona on the map and attracted the millions of foreigners who visit the city. Perhaps it would be time to realize that these historic shops are the street-level equivalent of Antoni Gaudí and Josep Puig i Cadafalch, the indispensable icons to define the personality of a street and differentiate them from each other.
George Steiner used to say that the idea of Europe resided in its cafes: unique and inimitable spaces for conversation and meeting. What Europe awaits us if we turn all cafes into burger joints and green juice bars?